


Hold It Against Me

by AHumanFemale, Power-Bottom-Barba (Cap_Against_The_Clap), Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Banter, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Feels, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHumanFemale/pseuds/AHumanFemale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Against_The_Clap/pseuds/Power-Bottom-Barba, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: “You know, pride is one of the seven deadly sins.”Carisi struggled to keep his voice light as he leaned against the bars of the holding cell, peering through them at Barba, who was slumped, forlorn, on the hard metal bench.  Barba looked up at him, already scowling, and suspiciously unsurprised to see him there.  “I was raised Catholic,” he said, with just a hint of his usual snark.  “I’d like to think I remember something as basic as the seven deadly sins.”“And yet you still refuse to just swallow your pride, huh?” Carisi asked, aiming for rhetorical and missing by a mile, the stress of the day creeping into his voice as he straightened.  “It doesn’t take much, Counselor.  Pretty sure all you owe is an apology and a small payment and you’d be free to go.”Barba huffed a sigh and tipped his head back against the wall.  “Oh, isthatall?” he asked.  “Did you come all this way to enlighten me of what I have to do to be released from jail after being held in contempt of court?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A long, long time ago, a delightful anon asked AHF on tumblr for the three of us to write a fic where Barba is held in contempt of court and smut ensued.
> 
> And, well, smut will ensue eventually. But _someone_ ~~who is definitely not the person typing this~~ had to go infect it with feels first.
> 
> This will likely be three chapters, potentially four, and we'll aim to update as soon as possible!
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Out of all the ways Carisi could have seen himself finishing out the day, this wasn’t exactly near the top of the list.

He signed himself in on a worn clipboard with a thin ballpoint pen chained to the intake window and offered his shield and ID.  The guard behind the thick plastic window was disinterested and gave the items little more than a cursory glance before handing them back. 

“Who’re you here for, Detective?” the guy asked, boredom sighing from each syllable.

“Rafael Barba,” he answered, lips pursing as he replaced his badge on the front of his coat. 

The guard scoffed.  “Yeah, you have fun with that.”

Carisi scowled and could only guess what that might mean at this point, with Barba having spent half the day in holding.  The man’s temper wasn’t always stellar to begin with — an afternoon behind bars must have rendered him absolutely _delightful_.  A fact Carisi would have to keep in mind as he was led through a heavy locked door to the holding cells, most of which were empty this late on a Friday night. 

His escort pointed out the man in question and left him to deal with it, making a passing comment to an officer at the other end of the hall.  The man with the keys, Carisi observed, as he moved to stand in front of the man he’d come to collect.

“You know, pride is one of the seven deadly sins.”

Carisi struggled to keep his voice light as he leaned against the bars of the holding cell, peering through them at Barba, who was slumped, forlorn, on the hard metal bench.  Barba looked up at him, already scowling, and suspiciously unsurprised to see him there.  “I was raised Catholic,” he said, with just a hint of his usual snark.  “I’d like to think I remember something as basic as the seven deadly sins.”

“And yet you still refuse to just swallow your pride, huh?” Carisi asked, aiming for rhetorical and missing by a mile, the stress of the day creeping into his voice as he straightened.  “It doesn’t take much, Counselor.  Pretty sure all you owe is an apology and a small payment and you’d be free to go.”

Barba huffed a sigh and tipped his head back against the wall.  “Oh, is _that_ all?” he asked.  “Did you come all this way to enlighten me of what I have to do to be released from jail after being held in contempt of court?”

Carisi ignored him.  “Honestly, I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve gotten yourself thrown in the slammer,” he remarked conversationally.  “Considering you’re not the most respectful under, you know, the best of circumstances.”  He shrugged.  “Of course, most of the judges in Manhattan are used to it, but you apparently had to go and find the one that wasn’t.”

“The one that was full of it,” Barba corrected lightly, looking up at Carisi.  “The one who dismissed all charges against a rapist who all but admitted to committing the crime, just because _he_ didn’t seem to think that a rape had occurred.”

“Which, naturally, meant that you had to yell at a judge in his own courtroom,” Carisi said, a little wryly.  “Which flies in the face of the solid nineteen times you told me while I was studying for the Bar that at the end of the day, judges have almost full latitude to do whatever the hell they want in their courtroom.”

Barba’s scowl deepened.  “Using my own words against me?” he snapped.  “That’s a low move, Detective, even for you.  Besides, just because a judge might have full latitude in his own courtroom doesn’t mean he should execute full latitude in his courtroom.”

Carisi tilted his head.  “Oh, so now you’re trying to legislate on top of everything else.  You announcing a run for state assembly?  I can think of less auspicious circumstances…”

He trailed off when Barba rolled his eyes.  “Of course not,” he huffed.  “But every now and then, someone has to say something, to take a stand, or else nothing will ever change.”

“Ok, but isn’t that what post-court press conferences are for?” Carisi asked with a raised eyebrow.  Barba just rolled his eyes again, and Carisi pressed on.  “I’m serious, Rafael—”

Barba’s eyes snapped up to his, but instead of looking irritated at the use of his given name, he looked...almost amused.  “Trying to appeal to my humanity, _Sonny_?” he asked with a small smirk.  “That’s a losing battle if ever I’ve seen one.”

Carisi ignored him.  “You want to say something, take a stand?  I’m all for it, Raf.  Lord knows something needs to change — I mean, doing this job, you can’t _not_ think that.  And I’m—”  He hesitated, knowing how what he was about to say would sound, but frankly, these words had built up over years, and now might be his one opportunity to say them.  “I’m proud of you for doing what you do day in, day out, and still believing that things can change.  I, uh, I admire that about you.  A lot.  And I’m proud of you for taking a stand, but you gotta know when it’s gonna do more harm than good.  Especially since you and I both know that you’re already on thin ice with the DA, and this isn’t gonna help matters.  So if you wanna keep doing good and working to change things—”

“Are you planning on getting to the point at any time in the near future?” Barba interrupted, his caustic tone belied by the softness in his expression as he looked up at Carisi.

“If you wanna keep being able to do good and working to change things,” Carisi continued doggedly, “You’ll have to put your damn pride aside and just apologize to the damn judge and pay the fine, Rafael.”

“I did.”

Carisi blinked at him.  “You — what?”

Barba sighed.  “I already apologized,” he admitted, something sullen in his tone.

Carisi stared at him.  “Then why the hell are you still sitting in here?”

“I forgot my wallet.”

“You…”  Carisi gaped at him.  “You let me think that you’ve been sitting in here with some noble cause when in reality you’re just an idiot who forgot his wallet?”

He was practically squawking by the end of that, and Barba looked torn between insult and amusement.  “I didn’t _let_ you think anything,” he said, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.  “You came to the conclusion all on your own.”

“That’s — that’s not the point,” Carisi spluttered.  He put his hands on his hips and glared at Barba.  “You still let me give that whole ridiculous speech—”

“In my defense, it sounded like something you need to get off your chest,” Barba said innocently.

Carisi’s glare deepened.  “Ok,” he huffed, trying desperately to maintain his handle on what little dignity he had left, “so if all you needed was your wallet, why the hell didn’t you, you know, call or something?”

Barba looked away and shrugged.  “I called Carmen,” he offered, a little weakly.  “She normally has my wallet.”

Carisi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “And I suppose you forgot that Carmen was on vacation?” he asked.  “So, what was your plan?  You were just gonna sit in here all night?”  Barba seemed suddenly very busy smoothing an invisible wrinkle in his tie and Carisi rolled his eyes.  “Or what, did you plan on someone riding in to your rescue?”  Barba’s neck flushed red and Carisi gaped at him.  “Did you honestly plan on me showing up here?”

Barba stood, meeting his eyes evenly.  “I’ve never once _planned_ on you, Det. Carisi,” he said with just a hint of his usual snark.  “But there are such things as happy accidents.”  Carisi stared at him, not quite knowing what to say, and Barba sighed.  “Just — go get my wallet from my office and we can put this entire thing behind us,” he sighed again.  “It’s probably locked in the bottom drawer of my desk.”

Though Carisi was deeply tempted to just walk away and let him stew, he settled for squaring his shoulders.  “It’s already taken care of,” he said.

Barba’s head jerked up again.  “What?”

“It’s already done,” Carisi said, a little sourly.  “It was gonna be my big reveal at the end of this, but the mood’s thoroughly ruined now, so.  Let’s just get outta here.”

“I’ll repay you, obviously,” Barba offered, as the uniformed officer from the end of the hall appeared with a key and a grin like he had heard the entire conversation, his grin not fading under Carisi’s scowl.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Carisi grumbled, grabbing Barba’s shoulder and steering him out of the holding cell.  “Don’t worry about it.  I make more than you, remember?”

Barba’s expression went from borderline grateful to downright murderous so quickly that Carisi might’ve laughed — under different circumstances.  “And here I thought you showed up here to be my white knight,” he muttered sullenly.

“Clearly you didn’t need a white knight — you just needed an ATM machine,” Carisi shot back.

For a moment, it looked like Barba might laugh at that, but he somehow swallowed it down, along with apparently the remainder of his pride, as he subsequently offered, as they left the local precinct, “Well, white knight or not, at least let me take you to dinner to say thank you.”

Carisi gave him a look.  “Did you already forget that you don’t have your wallet?”

Barba rolled his eyes.  “Despite not owning every Apple device known to mankind, I’m not quite as big a luddite as you clearly seem to think I am, and there _is_ such a thing as Apple pay, accepted at most restaurants.”  He arched an eyebrow at Carisi.  “Besides, that’s probably all you were after in the first place, a free meal.”

Even though Carisi knew Barba was joking, he couldn’t quite stop the flush that he could feel spreading across his cheeks, and Barba glanced at him.  “What?” he asked, before realization dawned over him.  “Oh.  Were you — that is, um, were you planning on taking me to dinner after springing me from jail?”

“I had thought about it,” Carisi muttered.  “Before you, you know, completely ruined the mood.”

“Well,” Barba said after a long moment, with a slightly knowing smile, “maybe I can make it up to you.”

Carisi just arched an eyebrow at him.  “You can sure as hell try.”

It took Carisi three whole blocks of walking together in varying degrees of sullen silence before he had a sudden realization.  “Hang on,” he said, his breath fogging in the air as he turned to squint at Barba.  “You don’t have an iPhone, do you?  Because I was under the impression you were still living in 2009 with a Blackberry.”

Barba scowled at him.  “Firstly, the Blackberry is issued by the DA’s office and is the pinnacle of security—”

“Leave it to you to sound offended on behalf of your work-issued phone,” Carisi snorted.

Barba ignored him.  “Secondly, just because I refuse to bedeck myself in Apple’s latest offerings, including that truly atrocious thing masquerading as a watch doesn’t mean that I don't have alternate means of payment.”

“Oh yeah?” Carisi said with a smirk.  “Like what?”

“Visa checkout, for instance,” Barba said, somewhat haughtily.

Carisi’s smirk widened.  “Firstly, isn’t Visa checkout for buying things online?” he asked.  “Secondly, does it actually work on a Blackberry?”

Barba’s scowl returned.  “That’s not the point,” he said, and Carisi chuckled lightly.

“Sure it’s not,” he said, pulling the door to Forlini’s open and stepping back to let Barba in first.  “Don’t worry, Counselor, you can just Venmo me.”

“What the hell is Venmo?” Barba asked suspiciously.

Carisi grinned.  “Nevermind,” he said.  “I’ll just add it to your tab.”

Barba’s expression darkened and Carisi had to fight back a chuckle as he held the door to Forlini’s open for him.  Barba stalked past him with his head held high, which Carisi thought took nerve considering Barba smelled like a holding cell and looked worse for wear after spending several hours in jail.

Still, for all his plans for how the evening was going to go, for all intentions he had when heading to bail Barba out of jail, Carisi’s stomach still gave a nervous flip-flop when Barba corrected the hostess when she assumed more would be joining them.

Not even he could’ve planned for this.

Barba glanced back at him as the hostess grabbed two menus and started to head towards the back of the room, away from their normal spot at the bar.  “Coming, Detective?” Barba asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” Carisi said, giving himself a little shake.  “I’m coming.”

After all, what was it they said about the best laid plans?


	2. Chapter 2

Carisi felt oddly tongue-tied as he followed Barba and the hostess to the back of the room, to a table much more private than their normal spot at the bar, and chairs much closer together than if they were sidled up to the bar.  Barba didn’t seem to have the same awareness of the situation, collapsing into his chair and opening the menu without so much as a pause.

In fact, he moved closer.

Moved his chair to be sitting next to Carisi’s right rather than across the table.

“I don’t know why I bother looking at the menu,” Barba sighed before flipping it closed.  “Like I haven’t been here hundreds of times already.”

“Because you’re a creature of habit,” Carisi asserted and pointedly ignored his menu because Barba had a point — they’d memorized this menu years ago, over the course of probably hundreds of nights similar to this one.

Well, maybe not _similar_.

None of the other ones had started with a trip to lock-up.

“Am I?” Barba asked pointedly, as if sensing Carisi’s line of thought.

Carisi ignored his assumed point.  “I bet you’ve bought the same kind of coffee for ten years, at least,” he said instead.  “Probably from the same bodega.  I bet you have a morning routine.”

Barba just arched an eyebrow at him.  “First off, I haven’t lived in the same place for ten years, which would make it difficult to buy my coffee from the same bodega.  Secondly, you _don’t_ have a morning routine?”

Carisi leaned back in his chair and laughed lightly before running a tired hand across his face.  “Honestly? Some mornings I do.  Other mornings I’m lucky if I stumble out of bed and find a clean-ish suit.”

Barba gave Carisi what could only be described as a pitying look.  “You know you set yourself up for this,” he said.

“I know,” Carisi sighed, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.  “Go ahead, do your worst.”

“That certainly explains why your suits look the way they do,” Barba said, smirking, though he added, “It takes some of the fun out of it when you know it’s coming.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

Barba laughed as the waitress stopped at their table to take their order.  Sure enough, both men ordered their usual meals, though Barba shot Carisi a surprised look when he ordered an Old Fashioned instead of his usual beer.  “What?” he asked, slightly defensive.  “I figure after the day I’ve had, I’m allowed some hard liquor.”

“Not entirely sure a cocktail counts as hard liquor,” Barba said mildly.  When the drinks arrived, he raised his scotch in a toast, his smirk back in full force.  “To new habits,” he said, almost glibly.

Carisi rolled his eyes before giving him a look. “What happened today better not become a habit,” he muttered, even as he clinked his glass against Barba’s.  They both took a sip and Carisi swallowed hard before asking carefully, “Speaking of, do you wanna talk about what happened today?”

Barba’s smirk faded.  “What, and ruin our dinner?” he asked lightly, though his expression darkened somewhat.  “After all, I’m in no rush, are you?”

Rather than blurt his immediate reaction, which was of course to tell Barba that he was in no rush whatsoever, Carisi considered the question for a moment, taking another sip of his drank.  “Nah,” he said finally.  “I got all the time in the world.”

Barba snorted.  “Yeah, right,” he scoffed.

“Fine, I got all the time I need tonight,” Carisi said with a smirk of his own, and Barba’s eyes narrowed slightly.  “Liv seemed to think there might some trouble bailing you outta jail, so she gave me the entire evening off.  I’m not even on call.”

“Some trouble?” Barba repeated, almost warily.

Carisi shrugged.  “She, uh, seemed to think it’d take some convincing to get you to apologize.”

Barba’s expression soured.  “Did she.”

“I mean, what she actually said was, ‘There’s no way in Hell you’re going to get Barba to apologize, but do your best anyway’.”

Barba rolled his eyes and drained his drink.  “Well that just goes to show how little you and Liv know me.”

Carisi shrugged again.  “Maybe so,” he said, with feigned nonchalance.  “But the joke’s on you because you never got to see my impressive array of persuasion tactics.”

Barba’s eyes snapped to his.  “Persuasion tactics?” he repeated.  “Like what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Carisi said with a smirk.

Their waitress returned with their food and a refill for Barba, who gave Carisi a look that was less baleful than he seemed to be aiming for and more appraising.  “Well,” he said, unfolding his napkin, “at least you get to save them for next time.”

Carisi’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a scowl.  “There better not be a next time,” he said, stabbing at his food with more force than necessary.

Barba smirked at him.  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Their conversation slowed with the arrival of their dinner, but Carisi felt they were finally on more even footing for the first time all evening.  Which was good, because he’d been imagining this for so long that he’d been half-afraid he was going to mess this up.

Not that there was anything to mess up.

Not that this was different than any of the meals they had shared over the years, whether in Barba’s office or the precinct of bellied up to the bar just ten feet from where they were sitting.

But there was something different, and Carisi didn’t think that he was imagining it, something different in Barba’s expression as he looked at him, as his knee knocked against Carisi’s under the table.  Something softer perhaps, or less guarded.  Something that lingered as they finished their meals and their first drinks turned into second and third.

Finally, Barba glanced down at his watch and sighed, almost ruefully.  “Well,” he said, draining the last of his drink, “I suppose it’s time we finally let them flip this table.”

Carisi nodded.  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said reluctantly.  “I’ll be sure to tip our waitress accordingly.”

Barba arched an eyebrow at him.  “Didn’t I say I was paying?”

“Again, with what wallet?”

Their banter continued as Carisi dutifully paid the bill and left a tip that he was _definitely_ making Barba repay him for, as they put their coats on and headed outside, where both men lingered, seemingly unwilling to end the evening.  “Thank you, again,” Barba said, looking up at him.  “For bailing me out and for dinner.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sending you a bill,” Carisi said easily.

Barba rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and it wasn’t even his usual sardonic smirk.  “Well, since I won’t be able to pay you back until tomorrow, what do you say to coming back to my place for a nightcap in the meantime?”

Carisi’s pause was momentary, but it was there. 

Not because he didn’t want to go, but because he didn’t know what going would mean.  He should probably turn him down, should do his best to keep things professional, but… well, he’d never been accused of making the best decisions under the best of circumstances.  Much less when the object of years worth of affection was taking the time to invite him home.

“Yeah,” he said finally, sealing his fate.  “Sure.”

* * *

 

Rafael Barba, for all his bravado and irrepressible style, lived a humble existence.

His apartment was modestly sized but well kept, the furniture comfortable but hardly a luxury item.  He had lamps, which somehow struck Carisi as odd. The idea of Barba noticing the light was low and flipping on a lamp to read by caused a flicker of affection to light in his chest, the image suddenly as real to him as everything else in the room: bookshelves stuffed to capacity, including a few heavily worn paperbacks that Carisi would kill to study more closely without the man’s eyes following him; tastefully high-brow prints on the walls; no photos, that he could see, but he didn’t figure Barba was the type to have that kind of thing in his home to begin with.

“Detective?”

Barba’s voice drew him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Barba with a glass in hand, liquid the color of warm amber trembling slightly at the bottom of the tumbler.  Carisi took the offering, bringing it to his lips as he watched Barba shrug off his jacket and loosen his tie. 

“Thanks,” he said and took a sip only to try his damnedest to avoid grimacing against the burn.  Barba laughed so he guessed he hadn’t succeeded.  “Don’t start.  Not all of us are desensitized to rubbing alcohol.”

“I didn’t say a word,” Barba replied knowingly before crossing the living room to take a seat on the couch, at the end, one arm across the back while the other stayed on the armrest.  His drink stayed in hand, soft light from the lamp that caught Carisi’s attention earlier playing over his dark hair and lighting it up in shades of copper and gold and caramel brown. 

Carisi found himself clearing his throat — nerves, maybe — and took another sip of scotch to hide the evidence. 

“Have a seat,” Barba told him charitably.  “Unless you need to go, of course.”

“Nah,” Carisi replied almost instantly and the suggestion of his leaving was enough to spur him on, to force him from his place standing in the middle of room.  Instead he walked around the low coffee table and took a seat next to Barba. 

Not directly next to him, but not at the other end of the couch either. 

Just enough distance to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but not far enough away to suggest professionalism was the only reason he was there. 

“So,” Carisi started as Barba took a drink, “you wanna talk about it now?”

“What am I talking about?”

“It’s been bugging me all day,” Carisi said honestly, thinking of the tense hours he spent at his desk after hearing that Barba was still locked up, “You told me how you got thrown in jail.  My question is _why_?” 

Barba sighed.  He must have had enough liquor to loosen him up because he looked over at Carisi and said, “I got some news last week.”

Carisi’s stomach plummeted.

“News, like… like what?  Like medical news?”

Barba made a face.  “No, nothing like that,” he assured him before sighing again.  “I was notified that the DA decided to hire a new bureau chief.  I had known about the position and put my name in for consideration.”

“You didn’t get it,” Carisi surmised and Barba nodded his affirmation.  

“Younger applicant, a hotshot from Chicago,” he confirmed with a sigh, and it was telling that the man seemed numb to it now.  “I told myself not to expect anything, not after the record I’ve had the last few years, but apparently I didn’t listen.  I thought…”  He chuckled, devoid of all humor.  “I don’t know what I thought.”

"So, what, today you were acting out because you didn't get a promotion?" Carisi asked skeptically, because as much as he was certain the news would’ve stung, he couldn’t imagine Barba being that self-destructive.

"No, today I was acting out because the judge was wrong," Barba said bluntly.  "The lack of promotion just...made me feel like I was finally able to do what I thought was right."

Carisi felt a pang.  There was no way to do the work they did without feeling that injustice every so often and he had no doubt Barba had felt it as strongly as he did.  If not stronger, as Barba inevitably became the face of the State.  The face that won or lost in the name of the victim, for better or worse. 

“Nothing to lose,” Carisi murmured, turning to his glass again even as Barba nodded.  Every drink was easier than the last.  “You spend all this time following the rules, being mindful of what was expected of you…”

“Well,” Barba interrupted, “following rules or expectations was never my forte.”

Carisi scoffed.  “You don’t say,” he said with a slight grin, a grin that Barba didn’t return.

“But yes, your point stands,” he said on a long, tired exhale that made the man sound older than he was.  “I always knew where I could push, where I couldn’t.  It’s been an instinct of mine for my entire life — knowing what exactly I could get away with and with whom.  For all my bending rules, for all my occasional bouts of going rogue, I had always assumed that my record would speak for itself.”  He scoffed and finished his drink.  “I thought that at the end of the day, my work would be more than the sum of its parts.”

“It is,” Carisi said emphatically and scooted closer.  “It _is_ worth more than how it looks on paper.” 

Barba gave him a measured look, something almost defiant in his voice as he replied,  “You say that, but starting in a few weeks I’ll have a new boss and I don’t think my work amounts to much of anything anymore.”

“Come on.  You’re taking this a little hard, aren’t you?”  Carisi was aiming for joking, an attempt to lighten the mood, but based on the withering look Barba gave him, he hadn’t succeeded.

"Ask Fin sometime what it's like to have someone younger than you and whiter than you brought in as your supervisor,” Barba said simply, unflinching.

Carisi made a face.  "Fin was fine with Dodds," he said evenly.

Barba’s expression was skeptical.  “Just ask him,” he insisted and somehow Carisi knew he would.  Knew enough now after thirty-seven years of life and years of being on SVU that there was likely a perspective here he wasn’t privy to.

“Okay,” he said softly as Barba leaned forward to set his now empty glass on the coffee table.  “I will.”

Barba sighed loudly and tipped his head back against the couch, silent for a long moment before he turned his head to look at Carisi, his dour expression falling away as if forcing himself to relax.  "Just promise not to do too much ass-kissing with the new guy," he teased.  "I'd like to pretend that our level of sycophancy is special."

Carisi rolled his eyes.  "I don’t know, Counselor.  No promises."

"I mean, from what I hear, this guy's younger, prettier, blonder..."  Barba trailed off and smirked at Carisi.  "Just your type, from what I hear."

Carisi's mouth went dry, knowing in an instant that Barba was referring to the West Virginia incident, and he found himself moving closer.  Next to Barba, close enough now to feel the man’s body heat and smell the lingering scent of his aftershave.

"No," he said emphatically, as though Barba might not believe him, "not my type at all.  Sounds...sounds like a mistake, if you ask me."

Barba looked at him, something unreadable in his hooded eyes.  "Well," he said, leaning his head back again and closing his eyes, "just don't go falling in love with him.  I don't think my heart could take it."

"Yeah?" Carisi asked, in what he sincerely hoped was a casual way. 

Barba cracked one eye open, smirking again.  "Yeah. Losing a promotion and my best-dressed errand boy all in one fell swoop?  It'd be too much for any man to handle."

Carisi managed a chuckle, but it sounded strained even to his own ears.  "Errand boy?" he repeated.  "Is that still how you see me?"

Barba sighed, his smirk falling away.  "No," he said, almost more to himself than Carisi.  "No, I haven't seen you that way in a long time."

Barba’s honesty floored him.

Turned him inside out, made his lungs constrict and his ears buzz momentarily. 

His initial instinct was to laugh it off.  To offer some innocent quip, to turn the heady spark in the air to something more playful.  To change the subject and let the moment evaporate because he wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for this moment.  Ready for the moment they were open, ready for the moment they changed.  It would have been all too easy to make some cheap comment about how he’d finally been promoted to unpaid personal assistant.

He didn’t.

Instead he leaned in.

Ducked his chin and tilted his nose down so that he was hovering ever so slightly over Barba, still reclining against the back of the couch.  There wasn’t a moment to doubt or second guess.  He hardly had the time to wonder if he’d lost his mind before Barba was meeting him in the middle, craning his neck to bring their lips together.  Firm, insistent.  As though neither had a doubt in the world that this was always where they’d been destined to end up.  

Barba tasted like the smoky burn of scotch and he imagined he tasted the same, a thought that was something of a comfort to him as he brought a hand up to hold Barba’s jaw and take the kiss a little deeper.  Teasing at the seam of his lips, pulling lightly at the curve of Barba’s lower lip.  Blood roared in his ears as Barba opened up to him, now arching closer and resting his hand across the back of Carisi’s neck.  Arm around his shoulder, holding him close.

When Carisi pulled away it was because he felt like he had to, desperately needing air and a way to clear his head when the taste of Barba was still so strong on his lips.

“Maybe not an errand boy,” Barba mused, green eyes meeting blue even as they occasionally darted back to Carisi’s mouth. 

“No?” Carisi asked, smiling.

“No.”  Barba toyed with the hair at the nape of Carisi’s neck, letting it sift through his fingers.  “You’re showing remarkable promise elsewhere.  Errands would be a waste of your talent.”

Carisi barked a laugh.

"Does that mean you don't want me to get you a refill?" he asked, grinning, and maybe his eyes drifted a little too.

Barba smirked.  "Well, I never said that."


	3. Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Have you been with a man before?" Barba asked casually and Carisi was quick to answer, to reassure any concern.
> 
> "Yes. Yeah, I have."
> 
> "Hmm."
> 
> It was a small noise, mostly neutral, and Carisi waited until the drink was against Barba's lips again before asking, "You?"
> 
> The snort that emanated from him was even louder when amplified by the liquid-filled glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We have finished! Thank you again for this prompt and we hope you all enjoyed.
> 
> xoxo, the three of us.

Carisi poured a single finger of scotch into Barba’s glass before setting the bottle back down and watching the honey-amber liquid ripple.  Unconsciously his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip and for a moment he was sure he could taste Barba there.  

Barba.

The man who could somehow simultaneously fill him with frustration and longing.

Aggravation and desire.

Laughter and exasperation and excitement that seemed endless.

_ That  _ Rafael Barba had allowed Carisi to take him out to dinner, had invited him back for a drink.  

Had opened up, had admitted what Carisi already knew - that there was something between them that’s been there for years, waiting for them to make up their minds. 

A smile threatened to form.

“Did you get lost?” Barba called from the next room.

The smile won.

“Yeah, yeah,” he called and grabbed the glass.  “Give me a sec.”

Barba was still sitting on the couch where Carisi had left him, glancing down at his phone as he set it aside.  His tie was fully undone now, as was the top button of his shirt.

Carisi could feel his own heartbeat steady against his ribs.

He crossed the room and handed Barba his glass before sitting back down.  Not touching, not so close as he had been, but still near.  An intimate distance.  He watched Barba's mouth as he took a sip of the scotch, and the other man must have noticed, because the corners of his lips quirked up.

"Are you panicking, Detective?"

"No," Carisi answered at once, and it was almost entirely true.  Panic was never such a rush — it was anticipation he was feeling.  Excitement, elation.  Disbelief.

"Have you been with a man before?" Barba asked casually and Carisi was quick to answer, to reassure any concern.

"Yes.  Yeah, I have."

"Hmm."

It was a small noise, mostly neutral, and Carisi waited until the drink was against Barba's lips again before asking, "You?"

The snort that emanated from him was even louder when amplified by the liquid-filled glass.

"It's okay to be nervous," Carisi teased while Barba brought the glass back down and drew a hand over his mouth.  His shoulders were shaking.  "We can go slow.  You know, whatever you're comfortable with."

Barba's chortle of laughter was audible, and so rare Carisi couldn't help but grin.  Barba's scotch glass clicked as it was set aside, beside his discarded phone. 

"It’s almost charming that you think you’re enough to make me nervous.  Besides, I'm feeling pretty comfortable," Barba said, still smiling, but a little lower now.  Carisi felt his pulse flutter, and his place flicked from Barba's eyes to his lips.

"I've been thinking about this for a while," he confessed.

The words surprised him but they were nowhere near a revelation.  To him or to Barba, it seemed, because he only nodded thoughtfully.  It was a thrill to hear Barba murmur, "Me too."

Carisi exhaled.

Barba's eyes met his.

There was no flinch of doubt, and Carisi could have died a happy man in that moment.

"How long?" he asked, grinning.  "Was it the mustache?  I know it was, don't lie to me."

Barba scoffed.  "Against my better judgment, maybe."

Carisi froze.

"Wait, really?  It really was?"

"No.  It was your eyes," he said, entirely honest, and Carisi felt his face heat up.  "I'm a weak man, Carisi, and my mother likes to tease that I have a weakness for white boys.  Luckily for both of us, not long after we met you opened your mouth and I was able to hold that weakness at bay for a few years."

"Liar," Carisi accused and slid closer.  "You love my mouth."

Barba's eyes glanced downward.

"I seem to recall that, if only briefly," he mused.  "Maybe you should refresh my memory."

It was a good enough line that Carisi almost complimented him on it.  He might have, if there wasn't something far more appealing he wanted to do with his mouth.

He leaned in, smiling, and murmured,  "Yeah, I think I can do that," just before his lips brushed Barba's.  The other man's mouth opened to his more quickly this time, and Carisi was struck with the errant romantic notion that they were sharing the same breath.

He drew kisses from Barba's mouth even as Barba drew closer to him, one of the other man's hands warm against his side, the other curling again around the back of his neck.

Carisi felt more drunk from Barba's mouth, from his closeness, than he ever could have been from scotch.

"Too long," Carisi gasped against Barba's lips, breaking the kiss if only for those short syllables.  "We waited too long."

Barba nipped at his lower lip, pressed a kiss to the shallow cleft of Carisi's chin.

"And yet only one of us is still talking," he snarked, dragging his lips up the length of Carisi's jaw before resting at his ear.  "Which seems a shame, considering how many other ways we could be putting your mouth to use."

"You act like I don't run my mouth in bed, too," he observed calmly and felt the tremor run down Barba's spine.  "Don't worry, you'll find out.  If you want."

Barba pulled his head back and the look of determination in his eyes was rival to what Carisi saw before court.  This time it was him who shivered, skin alight with anticipation.

Barba moved from beside him, but only for a moment.  His hands on Carisi's shoulders, he pushed himself up from the couch and turned to straddle him, settling down firmly into his lap.  As though of their own volition, Carisi's hands went at once to Barba's hips, even as his own flexed up ever so slightly.

"I do want," Barba said, and dipped his head to meet Carisi's mouth once more.

Carisi's head swam.  No matter how many fantasies he may have entertained, nothing prepared him for the reality of Rafael Barba in his lap, touching his face, licking into his mouth.  Nothing could have prepared him for the taste and the scent of him, the heat of his skin, the weight of the ass he had so admired now in his hands.

"God, you're killing me," Carisi confessed in a pained whisper as Barba combed his fingers through Carisi's hair and gripped him tight.  Barba took that as a sign to move on, dragging indulgent kisses over the corners of his mouth and then his cheek.  "I want this so much.  I want you so much."

He could feel Barba's smile against his skin just a second before Barba ground down on him.

Harder, slower.

Intentionally agonizing.

Carisi's eyes threatened to close.

"Barba..."

"Rafael."

"What?"

"Rafael," Barba corrected and finally his meaning managed to sink in as he grazed his teeth over Carisi's ear, "Call me Rafael... as long as we're being comfortable.  Are you comfortable, Carisi?"

Carisi nodded and tried to get a handle on himself again.

"Yeah," he breathed and dug his fingers into the firm muscle of Barba's -  _ Rafael's _ ass, rewarded instantly with a throaty groan.  "Are you?"

Smirking, Barba leaned back on Carisi's thighs and reached for his own tie.  He pulled it from where it was loose in his collar and tossed it to the side.  He met Carisi's eyes as his fingers went to release the top button of his shirt.

"I will be in a minute."

Carisi swallowed.

"You're gorgeous," he said, unable to help himself.  Barba's cheeks were flushed and his lips kiss-bruised, hair slightly mussed from their embrace.  Barba was always handsome, but Carisi had never seen him look so beautiful.

"You're biased," Barba replied, absently, leaning in to kiss is way along his jaw as his nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons of his shirt.  His hands were only off Carisi's arms long enough to let his shirt fall to the floor. 

The sight of Barba's undershirt, thin and tight against his body, made Carisi's head swim.

"I am," he admitted, earnestly, his hands on Barba's ample ass pulling him just a little bit closer.  "Bar— Rafael, you have to understand.  I mean, after all this time, you must know that it isn't — that I'm not kissing up because of your job.  It's  _ you _ , how I feel about you.  I..."

Barba kissed him, softly but insistently, stopping his rambling declaration.  Long fingered hands cupped his face and held it in place as Barba's lips moved against his, tongue teasing his mouth.  Slowly, Sonny felt the manic burst that fueled his declaration melt away, the tension in his body healed by Barba's mouth, his hands, his body.

He sighed.

“There we go,” Barba praised and Carisi’s heart began pumping in earnest.  His voice was a dull roar in Carisi’s ears as he added, “Relax.”

What was he talking about?  

Carisi didn’t want to relax, Carisi wanted to take Barba apart.

With his tongue, with his teeth.

With fingers pressed deep, with his cock sliding home.

A sentiment that was apparently visible on his expression, because Barba’s smile was wide and wolfish as he reached for the hem of his undershirt and murmured, “That’s better.”

Barba’s skin was smooth and something like burnished gold, dark hair flecked with gray growing across the width of his chest.  Reaching out to touch it was entirely out of Carisi’s control but the man didn’t seem to mind, sighing happily while Carisi ran his fingers through it and paused if only to feel Barba’s thrumming heartbeat under his palm.  He was afraid he’d be punished for being too sweet, too loving, but instead Barba reached for his wrist and held it in his long fingers.  Holding Carisi’s hand to his skin, keeping it in place over his heart so the heavy beat was a living thing under his touch.

“For you,” Barba told him and sounded breathless, rocking his hips again.  “Just for you.”

Carisi couldn't say whose hands undid the buttons of his shirt or pushed it off his shoulders, but he knew it was Barba's hands gliding over the planes of his chest, his thumbs brushing his nipples, his fingers undoing his belt.

"I want to see all of you," Carisi said, stroking down across the softness of Barba's stomach, knuckles brushing over the soft trail of hair that disappeared below the waistband of expensive, tailored pants.

Barba only grinned in response, before shifting back out of his lap.  Carisi nearly reached out to pull him back in, but Barba wasn't gone far, nor long.  He stood long enough to undo his slacks and push them down, quick work made just slow enough to be clearly for Carisi's eyes.

Barba was trying to kill him. 

Obviously it was malicious, the way he took far too long to step out of his clothes.  The way one hip jutted effortlessly to the side and drew Carisi's attention to the swell of Barba's cock.  Bobbing gently with Barba's movements, too big and too heavy to stand entirely at attention.  Instead it flagged and swayed between the man's legs, tip glistening, and Carisi licked his lips.

"Something you want, Carisi?" he asked knowingly even as he twitched under the attention.  Carisi's eyes flicked up to his.  "Don't let me stop you."

He'd never moved faster in his life, sitting up on the edge of the couch and reaching for Barba's hips to pull him closer.  To pull him in, to draw him close enough that all his heavy flesh brushed against his chin, then his cheek.  He could feel the slick trail it left and all his air fled in a ragged moan.  Feeling Barba's eyes on him, feeling a hand hovering over his shoulder, Carisi braved a taste and for a moment his eyes flickered shut.

Barba was heaven.

Warm and earthy, the salt of his arousal perfectly light on his tongue.

_ Perfect. _

It's possible he said as much, because Barba chuckled.

"Biased," he murmured again and still found it in himself to reward Carisi with long fingers raking through his hair.  Carisi groaned and let the head through his lips.  "God, yes."

This would be enough.  Carisi was sure of it.  The taste of Barba, the heat of him, the way his swollen cock filled his mouth and pressed heavy against his tongue.  If this was all they did, it would be enough.

The sounds Barba made were like music.  Soft sighs and little hisses, at first, and then murmured words of encouragement that made Carisi's heart pound and his hands grip at his lover's hips just a little tighter.  When he took him in deeper, swirled his tongue, moved his head to go a little faster, Barba's voice turned to low moans and sighs.

"Just like that.  God, Sonny, that's so good."

His name on Barba's lips was the biggest turn on of all, but he didn't have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about it.  He moaned, loud and low, and sped the bobbing of his head so Barba sank deeper into his throat and the wet sounds of his mouth joined the symphony of Barba's voice.

It was Barba who pulled away first.

It would have to be, because Carisi would never have been able to.

Carisi would have kept going all night, bringing Barba off over and over again, before once thinking of his own pleasure.  It was good, then, that someone still had their eyes on another finish line further in the distance while Carisi was still hung up on the first corner.

“Wait,” Barba told him, stepping back and away from the hold of his mouth.  Carisi gave a plaintive moan entirely against his will and Barba smiled.  “If you want this to last any amount of time beyond the next few minutes, I suggest we focus on you for a little while.  You’re too good at this.”

The praise wasn’t lost on him and he nodded.

“Let’s get you a little more naked, Detective,” and Carisi sucked in a quick breath because he’d heard so many versions of that in his dreams that the real thing was almost enough to have him coming in his pants, without a single touch to help him along.

Carisi was sure the way he stripped out of his slacks and briefs didn't have the same seductive swagger that Barba managed, but if the look in Barba's eyes was anything to go by, he didn't mind.  Carisi licked his lips as Barba moved close into his space and ran warm palms along his sides and leaned up to kiss him.

Carisi cupped his cheek, and breathed against his mouth when the kiss broke.

"How do you want this?" Barba asked, one hand skimming between their bodies, knuckles grazing Carisi's stomach.  His dick twitched in anticipation.

He never imagined Barba asking him what he wanted, in so many of his fantasies it had been Barba demanding, snapping instructions that he was only too eager to follow.  He wanted to please Barba, and kissed him again as he considered his answer.

"Whatever you want," Carisi said and meant it.  More than Barba probably thought he did.  There wasn't a single scenario in his head that would prompt him to say no to Barba - particularly not when one curious finger had decided to trace the crease of his thigh.

"Why am I not surprised?" Barba mused but there was fondness in his eyes.

"Because you know me,"  he said and gave a pitiful groan and the sensation of Barba's hand gripping him.  Something on the spectrum of sensation between gentle and rough, tentative and demanding.  The soft exhalation from Barba's lungs sounded like a laugh but fell somewhere short.

"That I do," Barba replied and rewarded Carisi with a lazy circle of his thumb under his head.  "So what I want is you to sit back down and let me climb on top of you."

Barba was definitely trying to kill him and the lazy tilt to the man's lips suggested he knew it.

Smug, gorgeous prick.

"Fuck.  Yes, please."  Sonny hadn't been lying when he said he wanted what Barba wanted, but he would be lying if he said most of his fantasies didn't involve being inside him, feeling the heat of him, watching his face as he made him fall apart.

He rocked his hips forward, thrusting shallowly into Barba's grip.  Barba's smirk only intensified as he twisted his wrist, stroking up, and Carisi moaned.

"Sit down," Barba said, tilting his head up and kissing Carisi's jaw.  "I'll be right back."

Carisi sat down reluctantly when Barba released his prick and touched his shoulders. 

"You want to do it here?" he asked, and Barba nodded, smiling.  Carisi spread his thighs and took hold of himself, stroking  absently as he openly watched Barba's body.  "Okay.  I'm waiting."

Barba looked for a long moment like he might turn back around, might forsake whatever it was in the next room to come back for Carisi.  His lower lip was caught between his teeth, his eyes settled firmly on where Carisi was jerking himself off, but then he proved again why he was the smarter of the two of them because he shook his head and started back toward his bedroom.

He came back less than thirty seconds later, items in hand and expression determined.  Carisi had hardly found the time to miss him, to muse on just how good Barba looked naked and walking away.  It would have to be a view he committed to memory and waxed poetic about some other time, because suddenly Barba was back with lube and a condom and Carisi forgot how to breathe.

"Let me," Carisi found himself saying, words spilling out before he could consider them, "Please.  Let me."

The words were the correct answer, Carisi seemed to think, because Barba's smile was back and he nodded before handing Carisi the small bottle and foil square.  He took them, put them to the side without another look, and reached for Barba's hand.

"C'mere," he murmured and pulled the man closer.  Until Barba had come to stand between Carisi's spread legs, until his only way to get closer was to kneel down onto him.

And Barba did, going easily down into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips.  His prick brushed up against Carisi's stomach and he couldn't help but leverage his hips up toward him as Barba's weight settled into his thighs.  Having Rafael Barba sitting in his lap, legs spread wide, was nearly too hot to be real.

"You're so sexy," he said, and didn't give Barba a chance to respond, instead kissing him soundly.  As though a kiss could express all the feelings of affection, desire, and disbelief he couldn't put into words.

Barba's hands were in his hair, and Carisi arched up toward him.  He groped blindly for the bottle of lube without breaking the kiss.  Barba only drew back when the snap of the cap opening filled the air.  Barba's pink tongue darted out to wet his kiss bruised lips as his eyes tracked Carisi's hands.

And so Carisi let it be a show.

He drizzled a generous amount of slick onto the cupped fingers of his right hand before closing the bottle and dropping it to the couch.  His left hand spread secure and supporting across Barba's lower back.  He met Barba's eyes and held his gaze as he reached down between them, and slid smooth, long fingers between the cheeks of Barba's ass, with only the sound of their breathing to echo in the room.

"I've thought about this for years," Carisi whispered, a hushed confession, as he felt out the pucker of muscle at Barba's opening.  "Since we met.  Since the first time I laid eyes on you."

"You've thought about fingering me on my couch?" Barba questioned breathlessly and gave a small mewl at the sensation of Carisi dipping inside, to the first knuckle.

"Sometimes," he admitted with half a shrug.  "Sometimes it was in your office, sometimes it was in my bed.  Sometimes it was you fingering me.  You want somebody long enough your brain will take what it can get."

Second knuckle.

"I'm pretty sure there's not a way I  _ haven't _ thought about this," he continued, admiring the way Barba's eyes threatened to close even as he was determined to stare Carisi down.  "I don't have a whole lot of free time for my fantasizing but zoning out at my desk while you're sitting on a table a few feet away is a terrific distraction."

"It does leave me worried about - ah, mmmnnn, yeah..." Carisi added a second finger, and Barba's words were cut off with a moan, only to begin again as he rocked his hips gently back onto Carisi's hand.  "It does leave me concerned about my ability at oration, if you're zoning out when I'm talking."

Carisi curled his fingers to rub small circles against Barba's prostate, and couldn't contain his grin when Barba's s head rolled back, gasping.

"Hell, usually it's you talking that gets me going," Carisi murmured, a little smugly, as he gently began to thrust his fingers back and forth, twisting his wrist, listening to Barba's shuddering breath turn to soft whines every time Carisi brushed his prostate.

"Then my pride is intact," Barba rasped and dug his fingers into Carisi's biceps.  " _ Shit. _ "

"That's something, right?" Carisi asked playfully and Barba huffed a breathy laugh.

"Yeah," he panted and it ended more like a moan than an affirmation.  "Something.  Carisi are you planning on fucking me or are you going to do this all night?"

"I could, you know," Carisi said and moved his fingers faster, just to prove a point.  Just to watch Barba go rigid and tilt his head back on an oath.  "I could keep you like this forever and not have a single complaint."

"I might," Barba ground out in response and Carisi watched as he fought against his body's desire to rock back, to set a rhythm that might get him there.  Carisi couldn't help but reward him for his determination and screwed in a third finger alongside the other two.  A little rougher this time, just to watch Barba's brow pinch and feel his toes curl along the outsides of his thighs.  "Ohhh, fuck.  Yes."

Carisi fought to keep his eyes open.

If this was how Barba looked getting fucked with only his fingers, Carisi couldn't wait to see what he looked like the first time Carisi filled him up.

"Is that good?" he asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.  They had only just begun, but Carisi didn't think he'd ever get tired of hearing the sound of Barba's pleasure and praise.

"You know it is, Carisi," Barba gasped, and rolled his hips back against Carisi's hand.  His brow drawn, his mouth slack.  He was beautiful.

"Will you use my name, please?" Carisi asked, aiming the thrust of his fingers toward Barba's prostate.  He wanted to hear it again from Barba's lips and wasn't afraid to ask.

Barba licked his lips and tipped his head forward, resting his forehead against Carisi's, his green eyes fluttering open to meet Carisi's blue.  Long fingers wrapped around the back of Carisi's neck, holding him close.

"Fuck me, Sonny," Barba breathed against his mouth, and then kissed him.

Carisi had gotten so wrapped up in the kiss — in the use of his name — to notice that Barba was once again two steps ahead of him, reaching down for the condom while Sonny kept working him open and moaned into his mouth and wondered for the dozenth time that night how he'd managed to get so lucky as to end up there.  It was a thought quickly short-circuited, however, at the sound of rustling foil and then Barba's grip, strong and steady, at the base of his prick.

"Shit, Rafael."

"One of us has to be goal-oriented here," Barba muttered, sounding displeased, even as he rocked back on Carisi's fingers to give himself room to work.  " _ Fuck _ .  Sonny, goddamn it."

He grinned, brushing his prostate again until Barba jolted.  "I'm goal-oriented."

"You're a menace," Barba argued, but managed to keep his eyes open long enough to roll on the condom.  A little too slowly, a little too methodically to have been doing anything but making a point, but Carisi rolled his hips into the pleasure and his fingers stilled.  Once it was in place Barba reached again and came back with the bottle of slick, drizzling an excess onto Carisi's cock and slicking him up.

"You're one to talk," Carisi told him and reveled in the crooked smile that graced Barba's lips as he sat up on his knees, putting Carisi's face against his breastbone.  He pressed a kiss there, soft and reverent, with his eyes fixed on Barba's even has he positioned Sonny against his entrance and began the slow slide down.

Carisi didn't want to close his eyes, no matter how much the pleasure made his eyelids flutter.  He wanted to watch Barba's face, to burn into his memory the way his eyes closed and his mouth fell open, the way his brow furrowed.  He looked so different than he did in court or smirking from the other side of his desk.  He looked open, vulnerable, and flushed with pleasure.

Pleasure Carisi was giving him, and that did even more to him than the smooth, tight heat of Barba sinking down onto him.

Carisi thrust his hips up shallowly and Barba gasped, a shuddering sound that went straight through him.  He wrapped his arms around Barba, pulling him flush against him and burying his face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him, expensive cologne and a fresh, clean dew of sweat.  He felt drunk, and mouthed soft, wet kisses along Barba's throat.

Barba let him.

That might have been more surprising than anything.

Barba didn’t flinch away from his obvious affection, didn’t scoff or belittle it, didn’t urge Carisi to get on with it.

He leaned in too. 

He let their heads rest together, Barba’s chin to Carisi’s forehead, and he breathed.  Carisi felt his breath rustle his hair and then felt him press his own kiss into the blond mess his hair surely was by then.  Then came Barba’s large hand on the back of his neck, moving to cup his jaw.  Gently, like Carisi was the one deserving of softness.  Of affection.  Like really, this was something Barba had been thinking about too.  The idea made his head swim and finally it was him who needed to move on, to go, because it was possible he’d stay here forever if given the chance. 

“Come on,” Carisi whispered, maybe just loud enough for Barba to hear him.  “I’m ready when you are.”

Barba gave a shaky chuckle.  “I’ve been ready for years.”

Ready.

That's what they were.  Two people who had been circling each other for years, and were finally ready. 

This was real.  It was something, more than a hookup, and more than a beginning.  It was real.

Carisi tightened his arms for just a moment, hugging Barba closer, and that act felt more intimate than the connection of their bodies.  He lifted his head and turned to catch Barba's lips, kissing him too softly, breathing into his mouth.  His hands slid down to Barba's hips, curving around his ass, and began to rock their bodies together. 

Barba rolled his hips, raising up just enough to slide back down, matching Carisi's upward thrusts.  The clench and stroke of him made Carisi moan and kiss Barba deeper.

Carisi wasn’t sure how he’d last, not with the way Barba took him in so deep and clung to him a little tighter when he hit the spot.  Of all the ways he’d imagined this, Barba was almost always barking orders so to have it for real — and realize that Barba liked tenderness too, at least from him — was a heady sort of thrill that he had to push to the back of his mind to focus on the moment itself.  It was surprisingly easy to do.  Directing his attention back to the man on top of him  gave him the opportunity to tune in to every single sound Barba made.  Every hiss and whisper and groan as they moved — in tandem and in opposition — made Carisi’s heart race.

He could tell the moment they were done with introductions, with lazy glances of movement.  Carisi felt Barba square his shoulders and lift up only to swivel himself back down as he sat, and Carisi’s breath caught in his chest.  Arousal may have been clouding most of his brain but still he was able to catch the hint — Barba was ready for more.

Carisi gave it to him. 

Planted his bare feet on the floor and thrusted up properly for the first time all night, marveling at the constellation of expressions moving over his lover’s face.  Surprise, pleasure.  Stunned ecstasy as Carisi gripped his hips and pulled him down a little harder than Barba had been moving himself. 

“Fuck,” Barba swore helplessly.  “There, Sonny.  There it is.”

He wasn’t sure which was better, Barba’s wrecked voice or the way his body felt around him.

It was easy, then, to fall into a rhythm, to give into what his body wanted to do in the first place, to what Barba wanted, to draw pleasured moans and gasps out of his lover. 

"Rafael," Carisi breathed his name like a prayer, and then again. " _ Rafael _ ."  

To say anything else felt like blasphemy — it all seemed holy somehow.  The movement of their bodies together, the slick sound of them, the hymn of their breathing and moans.  Their names on each others’ lips, rough and reverent.  Individual arrangements in a symphony, lascivious and breathtaking.  

Carisi wasn’t the only one affected, so tuned in now to the man in his arms.  Barba's breathing had sped up, as had the movement of his hips.  He could tell by the soft, broken gasps that he was hitting Barba’s prostate.  The look of his face, awash with pleasure, was enough to make urgency start to pool low in Carisi's belly.  He wouldn't last long.

He slid a hand from Barba's ass to between them, taking hold of Barba's hard cock and began to stroke him.  Smooth motions slicked with precome, twisting his wrist over the head in a way that make Barba's eyes flutter.

"I want to make you come," he gasped, hardly more than a whisper.

"Wait," Barba asked, his hand finding the one that gripped him and covering it.  "Wait, Sonny."

Carisi froze, looking up at Barba's expression to find that it wasn't anger or distress.  It seemed more like determination.  He  asked, "What is it?"

His answer was Barba lifting Carisi's hand up and off him, replacing it on his hip.  Maybe Barba wasn't ready for this to end yet... maybe he wanted to draw it out.  It was the answer least objectionable to Carisi, who was reeling with unease at the idea that he might have made his lover uncomfortable.

"Let me," Barba said by way of explanation and Carisi tilted his head in confusion. "Let me take care of you first."

Carisi balked.

"No, Rafael, I want—"

"Please," Barba interjected and Carisi's jaw snapped shut.  He'd never expected to hear that word out of Barba at all, much less in a bedroom voice that brooked no refusal.  "Please, let me."

He couldn't help but balk at the idea.  Carisi had made it a personal point of pride that all his lovers had come before him, without fail, and he hadn't heard a complaint yet — leave it to Barba to be the exception. Carisi didn't want him to be the exception, not in this.

"I—" Carisi started but it was cut short, silenced with a quick swivel of Barba's hips.  "Oh, shit."

"Please," he repeated and swiped a kiss over Carisi's parted lips.

His decision was already made and he was nodding before Barba could even lift off again.

He couldn't deny Barba anything.

Particularly not when what he was asking for felt so  _ good. _

He nodded, vaguely, but it was too much to focus on when Barba was clenching around him and moving his hips like that.  His hands tightened on Barba's hips and he thrust up into him, meeting his movements, pulling him close.  He closed his eyes, because he had to, letting was pleasures of Barba's body wash over him.

"You feel so good," he breathed, his voice tight.  He was close.

"That's right," Barba said, and rolled his hips again.  "That's right, Sonny.  Come on, don't you want to come inside me?"

Carisi nearly came from that alone.

"Oh, God." Carisi lifted his head to look at Barba, the look on his face as open and needy as his voice.  "Kiss me, please.  Rafael."

Barba kissed him, deep and sweet, and Carisi came.

His hips stuttered, his back went rigid, and he filled the condom in bucking thrusts that nearly sent Barba to the floor.  It was only the steel bands of his arms around Barba's lower back that kept him seated on Carisi's cock while he pulsed and twitched and throbbed.

Heaven.  It was heaven.

"Raf," he murmured, rough, without ever opening his eyes.  "Come on, keep going."

His words were little more than a slur of syllables.

"I don't want to hurt you," Barba told him gently, pressing fleeting kisses to the swell of his lower lip.  It was oddly hypnotizing, even if it wasn't quite able to distract entirely from Barba's cock bobbing against his lower stomach.

"You could never hurt me," Carisi told him and used his arm around Barba's lower back to rock him upwards again, to bring him back down with a short thrust up into his molten heat.  His reward was a low groan.  He finally managed to open his eyes, the sight of Barba so close a balm on nerves still going off like fireworks.  "Come on, Raf.  Just take it, alright?  Just use me, I want to see it.  I want to get you there."

Barba rocked his hips and Carisi saw stars.  He thrust up into him again, and again, his own pleasure prolonged by the look on his lover's face, the sweet sounds he made each time they came together.

"Not use you," Barba gasped, gripping Carisi's arms, leveraging himself as he continued to ride him.  "Never use you."

The look on Barba's face was so intense, so earnest, that Carisi kissed him to soothe any anxiety away.  His hand snaked between them again, taking hold of Barba's slick cock where it was pressed between their bodies.

"I want to make you come," he repeated.  "I need to make you come, please, Rafael, baby, come on, I want... please..." 

The hand that wasn't wrapped around Barba's cock was still solid on his hips, and as he pulled him down to meet him, Barba's thighs tensed around him.

He cried out as he came through Carisi's fingers.

He felt the wetness and the warmth and his heart beat anew, more satisfied now than he had been a moment ago.  Watching Barba find his release was an arresting image, second only to the feel of him hot and heavy and slick in his hand.

"That's it," Carisi murmured senselessly, "That's it, come on."

"Fuck," Barba finally groaned, breathing heavily with his eyes trained on where Carisi gripped him still.  Gentler, now that he was coming down.  "Oh, my God."

Carisi grinned.

"Couldn't agree more, Counselor."

Barba chuckled and relaxed in his arms, leaning forward just enough to rest fully against Carisi, to lay his cheek against his temple.  His breathing was labored and warm into his hair.  Carisi wiped his hand on his own leg and wrapped his arms around Barba, too sated and happy to give up holding the other man yet.  He pressed his face to his neck, kissing lazily along his jaw.

"That was so fucking good," he mumbled against Barba's skin, happily.

"Mmm." 

Barba sounded sated, and pleased.  It made Carisi smile and kiss his shoulder.

"I mean it.  You're so good."

"You're not so bad yourself, Detective."  Barba pressed a lazy kiss to Carisi's temple, and then paused.  "I'm going to have to have my couch cleaned."

Carisi laughed.

"Worth it," he said, stifling a yawn.  "You can always send me the cleaning bill, if you're that put out by it."

Barba rolled his eyes, which Carisi couldn't actually see from his angle, but he could feel the motion roll through Barba's entire body.  "Remind me that you make more money than I do again and you can take yourself home, Detective."

Carisi craned his head up to meet Barba's eyes.  "Does that mean you want me to stay the night?"

"Well I certainly wasn't intending to kick you out," Barba said dryly.  "I try to at least offer my conquests something like common courtesy."

Carisi pulled away, scowling.  "Your  _ conquests _ ?" he repeated, mock-offended, and Barba smirked.

"Would you prefer a different title?"

"A bit early for the 'what are we' conversation, don't you think?" Carisi countered, matching Barba's tone.

"Or two years too late," Barba muttered, under his breath.  Carisi wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't heard it himself.

"Be careful, Rafael.  Keep talking like that and I'm going to think you actually like me." Carisi grinned up at him.

Barba stretched and eased himself up out of Carisi's lap, who groaned at the pleasant ache in his thighs.

"Spoken like a man who wants to sleep in his own bed tonight," Barba said and ran a hand through his hair.  Carisi pulled the condom free and tied it off, admiring the rosy sheen spreading across Barba's body.  While he was admiring Barba seemed to second guess the snark and added, "Listen, Sonny—"

"I know," he interrupted with a soft smile.  "You don't have to say it.  Unless you want to, anyway."

Barba leveled a piercing green gaze on him, somehow still intimidating while naked and softening.

"I come with something of a disclaimer right now," he warned and Carisi bristled.  "I'm good so long as I manage not to do anything else to draw the DA's ire, but I'm on thin ice and if that—"

"—if that happens, I'll be here."

The words came without pause, without hesitation.

Barba seemed surprised, but really he shouldn't be.

"I can't promise your job is going to start sucking less, I can't promise you that the new guy isn't going to be the absolute worst," Carisi told him matter-of-factly, "But I can tell you that I'll be around for it, either way.  For you, either way.  So long as you want me to be."  He paused.  "Or until I run out of bail money, anyway."

Barba scowled at him.  "Hilarious," he pronounced dryly.  "And I'm sure your wallet will be glad to know that I have no immediate plans to be held in contempt again any time soon."

"That is a relief," Carisi said with an easy grin.

Something shifted in Barba's expression.  "But in regards to you staying as long as I want you to, if I said I would always want you to be around, what would you say to that?"

There was something of a teasing edge to Barba's voice, but not enough that Carisi was convinced there wasn't at least some sliver of truth to it.  "I'd say forever's a long time," he said carefully, "but I can't think of anyplace better I have to be."

Barba made a face.  "Don't go ruining good sex with sap," he said, a touch brusquely.

Carisi just shrugged.  "I'd prefer to call it truth, but tomato, to-mah-to." He gave Barba an appraising look.  "And in the meantime, I'd very much like to continue the good sex part."

"Presumptuous, don't you think?" Barba said, a smirk curving his lips. 

"I mean, if it was this good on the couch, imagine how much better it'll be when I actually get you into a bed."

Barba nodded slowly, pretending to consider when Carisi knew for a fact he'd made up his mind years ago.

"Come on, then," he said over his shoulder as he walked to the bedroom, round ass on full display if for no other reason than to draw an appreciative groan straight from Carisi's lungs.  "What are you waiting for?"

_ Not a thing _ , Carisi thought and stood from the couch.

Not a damn thing.

 


End file.
